I’m not too keen on having inedible animals around the house, but my kids have been asking for a dog for years. Each time I’d tell them, “Just wait until we get a house with a yard.” Well, we got a house with a yard, but we also installed new carpet and floors. So in the interest of protecting our investment from additional urine and feces accidents, I was like, “How about we get a snake!”
Then came the kid tears, and then came my Amber’s tears, and then came Amber rhetorically asking, “Would you rather have another kid or a dog?”
So we got a Yorkshire terrier (or some variation of one) from a family member who didn’t have the time to give her the attention she needed. She’s 6 and is called GiGi, which makes her sound like a stripper, but hey, no judgement in the Gibson household. We’ve been told that she likes cat food and sleeping on her owners’ backs.
So far she’s quiet–I’m not sure if she barks–and a bit nervous adjusting to our hell-raising household. The kids love her, this despite Ca$$ius saying, “If she dies we can buy another dog,” when warned about letting her run loose outside. He meant that in the sweetest way possible.
In just a day she’s grown on me, too. The kids went right to sleep with her in their bed, so she’s already earned her keep. It’s a normally a two-hour process of reading and yelling and answering questions: “Dada, Dada…when will it be morning?”
Most importantly, she’s peed and dropped a deuce…OUTSIDE.
Welcome to our family, GiGi Wayne Gibson.